I was the kid next door's imaginary friend.

Women: You can't live with them, and you can't get them to dress up in a skimpy little Nazi costume and beat you with a warm squash or something.

My ex-girlfriend was very sexy. She reminded me of the Sphinx because she was very mysterious and eternal and solid...and her nose was shot off by French soldiers.

In college I was one of six males who auditioned for five male roles in a comedy play. I was the one rejected. At that moment I made up my mind never to place myself at the mercy of some pompous, goateed, black-turtleneck-shirted "should I yay him or nay him?" pantywaist ever again.

I had a very close relationship with another kid when I was growing up. I was his imaginary friend.

Anger punishes the bearer's heart. Who remains angry suffers most. For many, the search for perfection virtually guarantees it will be found, and disregarded in order to continue the search. Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps.

I was at the Wal-Mart, which is where I think everybody goes eventually. If they die without Christ.